KSK

I thought it was a simpler story than The Stranger but a well told one with some lovely models. I particularly liked the rover and the base. Once again the voice acting really added to the film and that re-entry sequence was genuinely gripping. Great work all round.

No. I am Star Theory!

Heya @Madrias. Don’t want to drop any big spoilers but I will say that there may be a glimpse of that to come. Next chapter is under way. Visiting family this weekend but I have Monday off to recover and get some writing done. As a taste of things to come, I posted one of my research links on the Science and Spaceflight forum, which some kind soul nominated for TOTM... Beyond that... I’ve been bouncing some ideas around with @CatastrophicFailure which helped me find the missing piece I needed.

Oh wow! Some great threads here and thank you for nominating mine in along with them. Torn between commissioning a chainsaw sculpture of the Badge, or asking Elon Musk really, really nicely to paint it on the next Falcon to go up.

Hang on - is Val going to close her loop? Or has she already done so. If the Big Winter is on its way and she was old enough to remember it the first time around... Somewhere out there right now, might be a baby Val being born. Edit. Re-read the last part again. Guess not.

Indeed. I’m probably being over-cautious but let’s try and keep this particular conversation factual - that is to points of comparison between actual religions and the in-story relationship between Kerm and Kerbal, rather than folk’s opinions on faiths and religions in general. Happy to take that to PMs if anyone likes but let’s not get the thread locked this close to the end, huh?

You pretty much nailed it there @DualDesertEagle. Another way of looking at it is that the Kerbals will be going to their gods and asking to be judged.

Next chapter is up. In which we take a (temporary) break from rocket building to bring you an important announcement. The Sage of Barkton <of course not. Why would I mind you speaking the truth?> Because, Jonton chose his words carefully, not everyone believes that Kerm seeds should be frozen but if they hear that an actual Kerm doesn't object to it, then they might begin to change their mind. <That would seem reasonable> Elton sent a fleeting image of a row of glass desiccators, each holding a fragment of matted fibre. <although I presume you do not intend to talk about the Berelgan experiments> Jonton sighed. Not in so many words. The whole point of this interview is that we're as open as possible and that we give honest reasons for anything that we do need to hide. So, I will need to talk about the experiments but I don't intend to say where they happened. Hopefully everyone will understand why. He thought for a moment before sending an image of a kerbal guarding a Kerm sapling. So, I thought I should ask before dragging you into this. The sapling bloomed into a fully-grown tree, it's branches bending to wrap themselves around the kerbal. A hint of amusement rippled down Elton's mental link followed by a startled pause. Ghostly afterimages of sparks swirled around the tree; their patterns of movement aggressive. The tree shrank, cowering in the sudden darkness as the sparks began to take on a far more solid cast <I had thought to say that many centuries have passed since I needed kerbal protection> Elton's mental tone turned sombre <but that is not true.> The image of Kerm, kerbal and sparks swirled down to a point and vanished. <Tell what you need of our story, first of my Keepers - but I thank you for asking> -------------- Meleny scowled at the luggage piled up by the front door. "I still think it's all a Blighted nuisance." "It is and I'm sorry." Jonton rubbed his eyes. "Especially after all you’ve done for Joenie and me, but…” “That’s why we’d make good hostages,” Meleny finished bitterly. Jonton nodded. “Where the Sage of Barkton lives is no secret - it would be too easy to find you. To be honest, I’d be happier sending you all further away but Patbro’s Grove will have to do. If nothing else it’s further from the coast.” Despite herself, Meleny shivered. “Do you really think it’ll come to that.” “I don’t know. I don’t even know if the Children survived the war. But they’re not the only ones with strong opinions about freezing Kerm seeds.” The door to Joenie’s sleep room opened and Joenie bounded out, travel bag in hand. The happy smile vanished from her face as she sensed the tension between the two adults. She put her bag down and disappeared back into her room, emerging with an armful of books. Meleny saw her and summoned up a smile. “Pillars preserve me, Joenie – they could last you for months.” Jonton saw the worn copy of Advanced Microbiology on top of Joenie’s pile, with what looked like a Twelve Riders bookmark poking out from its pages, and felt a sudden surge of pride. “It’s a long way to the Berelgan and back,” Joenie replied. “And I don’t know which books I’ll want to read. I wish we could take an aeroplane.” “I do too,” Jonton agreed, “but I don’t think they’re being allowed to fly yet.” Neither he nor Meleny mentioned the real reason for not putting the Sage of Barkton on a civilian airliner. “Will Jonelle be alright while we’re gone?” A tolerant but loving expression crossed Joenie’s face that, Meleny thought, wouldn’t be out of place on someone twice her age. “She’ll be fine. She’s spending half her time sending telegraph messages to Obrinn anyway and if I ask Professor Erlin nicely he might let me Commune with Obrinn and ask him to send a message back to her for me.” Jonton blinked. “I suppose that would work.” He gave Meleny a rueful look. “It’s always the way with new things isn’t it?” “It always was with Adbas.” Meleny’s lip quirked upwards. “And on that note, I suppose we’d better get going. Come on – we can move all this outside before Ferry arrives.” ---------------- Jonton clipped the microphone to his lapel, sweating slightly under the studio lights. The sound technician gave him an encouraging smile. “A quick word if you wouldn’t mind, sir, just to check that everything is working.” Feeling more than a little foolish, Jonton cleared his throat. “Uh, what do you want me to say?” He dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief. “It’s hot up here…umm…” “Well you are sitting in the hot seat,” the technician said, straight-faced. “That’s fine, sir.” He offered Jonton his hand. “Good luck.” Jonton shook the proffered hand. “Thank you.” He looked round at the stony-faced security detail standing by each stage entrance. “Although I’m sure we’ll be fine with those good kerbals keeping an eye on things.” The technician blinked but decided not to comment. He checked his watch, muttering to himself, just as one of the doors swung open and a familiar figure hurried onto the stage. “Mr Jonton? All set then? Good, good – no don’t get up.” The presenter adjusted his own microphone. “The doors aren’t due to open for another five minutes and our VIP guests have only just arrived. Is that enough of a sound check?” he added, turning to the technician. “Absolutely, Tom. Your checks are always plenty loud enough.” The two shared a well-rehearsed groan at, what to Jonton, was plainly a well-worn joke. Tom took his seat across the table from Jonton. “I know how it is the first time,” he said. “Don’t worry – you won’t notice the lights or the audience once we get started. And don’t worry about our VIPs either – from what I gather, they need you far more than you need them.” Jonton decided not to mention that he knew both VIPs by name, settling for a polite smile at the presenter’s well-intentioned efforts at putting him at his ease. Tom glanced at him and nodded to himself. “Ingenious piece of kit your Kerm telegraph,” he said. “I used to work in telecoms myself before I started in television, and what’s left of the engineer in me did like the combination of high-tech sensing and old-fashioned dot-dash code. How are the Kerm finding it to use?” “It took them a while to get used to it,” Jonton answered. “Focusing on one small, specific task doesn’t come easily to Kerm – they’re used to working with all of their Grove at once, keeping everything in balance by instinct.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Although that’s not quite right. How best to explain?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “I suppose it must be a bit like being a musical conductor,” Jonton said at last. “Listening to all the musicians at once, keeping them in harmony but at the same time knowing how the sounds from all the different instruments fit together to make one piece of music, and how to steer that music to make the piece yours. I’m not very musical myself but I can’t imagine that a conductor has time to consciously think about what they’re doing – they just listen and know.” He offered Tom a faint grin. “That was the mistake I kept making to begin with – thinking too much. The more I tried to plan everything out logically, the more of a mess I got into.” Jonton shook his head. “Anyway – once they learned how to use it reliably, they certainly took to it. Jonelle – my daughter’s Kerm,” he added, “spends a lot of time on it, talking to Professor Erlin’s Obrinn.” “And isn’t that always the way with new technology?” Tom agreed. He tapped his earpiece. “Ahh, it appears that our guests are ready. Shall we make a start?” Jonton was surprised to notice a definite rumble of voices from behind the stage curtains. Composing himself, he turned to face the cameras and the hidden crowd beyond, as Tom flashed a hand signal at the broadcast director standing in the wings. “Going live in four…three…” Tom raised two fingers, then lowered them one by one. The curtains swept back, the noise from the crowd becoming suddenly louder from the darkness behind the lights. Tom leaned forward in his chair and discreetly cleared his throat as the Engines and Engineers theme music swept out from the speakers overhead. Large screens around the side of the stage lit up, showing himself and Jonton sitting at the table “Good afternoon, and welcome to a special one off – and I think the most unusual episode of Engines and Engineers that I’ve ever had the pleasure to present. With me in the studio is Jonton Kermol, known to many of you as the Sage of Barkton. It is also my distinct honour and solemn privilege to welcome two guests of the highest importance, neither of whom will need any introduction from me. Good kerbals, please be upstanding for the President of the Regionality of Doren, Dr Chadlin Kerman and the Chief Ambassador of the Forseti-Spierkan Confederacy, Mr Aldwell Kermol.” The two leaders walked on-stage to a standing ovation and more than a few astonished comments from various members of the audience to their neighbours. At the back of the studio, two banners descended from the ceiling, bearing the flags of both Regionalities. President Chadlin shook hands with Chief Ambassador Kermol although, from his vantage point behind the table, Jonton couldn’t help noticing that their expressions were polite rather than effusive. The rather obvious political statement of bringing a decidedly pro-Kerm Chief Ambassador and a pragmatic President around the same table, did not escape him either. Followed by Jonton, Tom walked out onto the stage, a quiver in his step. “Mr President. Honoured Chief Ambassador. Welcome to the show and thank you, on behalf of everyone here today, for making time for us.” Chadlin stepped forward to shake hands with the presenter and the former an-Kerm. “It’s good to be here. “And, on behalf of the Council of Twelve Pillars, we would like to thank Mr Jonton for his time and the Engines and Engineers team for all their recent assistance at short notice.” “And we welcome the opportunity to participate in this public forum,” Aldwell said formally. “Then, please, let us all be seated,” said Tom. He waited for the two Pillars to take their seats and for Jonton to sit down again, before going to join them at the table. “I think,” he began, “it’s fair to say that last week was a very big week for the Council.” The expected ripple of laughter ran through the audience and Tom waited for it to subside before continuing. “Culminating, of course, with the Joint Declaration and its hope of an end to the Kerm Crisis.” Tom took a sip of water from the glass in front of him. “So, I expect that there are many kerbals in the audience who are wondering quite why you’re here today?” “If you’ll forgive the political cliché, Tom, we’re here for you, the people. We understand that there will be public scepticism about the Declaration and so, to borrow the words of my esteemed colleague,” Chadlin bowed to Aldwell, “we are here in this public forum to try and address that scepticism and to answer any questions – about the Declaration, I should say,” he added to another ripple of polite laughter.” Tom turned to the camera. “As I mentioned, we are also privileged to have Mr Jonton Kermol, known to many of us as the Sage of Barkton, here with us today. For those that don’t know him, Jonton brings with him a unique, and very personal, perspective on the Kerm crisis and, as you will hear, his experiences form the bedrock of the plan set out in the Declaration. But let’s start by casting our minds back to the heady days of the first Munar Landing and to the words of President Obrick.” The stage screens turned black. The Engines and Engineers logo appeared for a moment before being replaced by an image of three kerbonauts strapped into a space capsule. Then, as it had for countless kerbals so long ago, a familiar commanding voice rolled out from the speakers: “For we have also tasked our greatest scientists with a mission of peace. To understand why the Kerm are led to fight amongst themselves and learn whether we kerbals can help them to live together without conflict or Blight. Our very survival as a species depends on their success and for that we must buy them time. Which is why we now call upon the six Regionalities of Kerbin to unite behind this Council of Twelve Pillars…” President Obrick’s voice faded out and the screens switched back to the view from the stage. The sudden silence was broken by a cough from the audience. “Stirring words,” said Chadlin, “but we did not follow them. Why the Kerm are led to fight amongst themselves remains a mystery. And we, the Council of Twelve Pillars, failed to unite the Regionalities behind us. However, a way of helping them live together without conflict or Blight has been discovered due, in no small part, to the deeds of the kerbal sitting before you today.” He dipped his head to Jonton.” “Those deeds are many, and some of them you will find shocking,” said Aldwell. “But they hold the keys to our future and so they should be known by all.” He turned to Tom who cleared his throat. “Thank you, Chief Ambassador. And on that note, please now hear the words of the Sage of Barkton – Mr Jonton Kermol.” Jonton bowed to the two Pillars. “Thank you, Mr President, thank you, honoured Chief Ambassador. Thank you, Tom. As a good friend of mine would be sure to point out, this is a long story although I will try my best to keep this telling of it as short as possible.” He paused, a mix of emotions chasing their way across his face. “It all begins with a Kerm seed.” Jonton described Gerselle’s discovery, the traditional one-day journey to find a place to plant the new Kerm, and his fateful decision not to bury the seed on stony ground but to plant it closer to his own Grove. Behind the stage lights, several kermol in the audience winced whilst others scowled and muttered to their neighbours. Those few shook their heads at Jonton’s clipped description of his Kerm’s battles with the new sapling, his and Gerselle’s realisation that those battles were the cause of the then recently discovered Blight, and finally his desperate reasoning that if a thirty-seven tree Kerm wasn’t intelligent enough to help stop the Blight, then maybe a thirty-eight tree Kerm would be. “And so, I decided to plant a new cutting in my Grove.” When the uproar showed no signs of subsiding after five minutes, Tom jumped to his feet to plead unsuccessfully for calm. Only the sight of President Chadwick getting to his feet, began to quieten the incredulous clamour from the audience. Kerbals sat with folded arms, glaring at Jonton as he described his struggle to preserve and eventual surrender to, the melting shards of his Kerm’s mind. By the time he’d recounted his experiences as an an-Kerm, leading on to his promise to stop the Blight still afflicting his Grove, the anger in the audience had begun to fade, replaced by fascination and, from a few, by sympathy. Still others leaned forward in their seats, eyes brightening with a dawning comprehension. “Fighting against several hundred years of instinct was hard. Not to mention painful. But I was able to pull back my borders and give Gerselle’s Kerm space to grow in peace. From there, it seemed obvious – if enough Keepers could go an-Kerm, then we could make space to plant all the new seeds without causing Blight or conflict. But by then, the first shots were being fired in what would eventually turn into the Kerm Conflict. Gerselle and I took in a Wakiran refugee called Enely…” To mounting awe from the audience, Jonton talked them through Elton’s awakening. Awe rapidly turned to sympathy and more than a few fiercely blown noses and jaws clenched against the onset of tears, as he described the disastrous attempt to Awaken Gerselle’s Kerm. “Enely managed to save her Jonelle - her Kerm – although I still don’t know how. Gerselle is still in a coma.” Jonton swallowed hard. “And we discovered that Jonelle was extremely protective of our daughter Joenie. I made the mistake of trying to intervene and got badly Kerm-stung for it. But eventually we made peace with Jonelle and, more importantly, helped to broker a peace between her and Elton.” Jonton took a long drink of water. Tom quietly re-filled his glass. “By then of course,” Jonton said heavily, “the Kerm Conflict had escalated into all-out war.” He paused. “And, another Kerm was about to Awaken – after we had learned many hard lessons from Jonelle’s Awakening.” He looked down at the table before staring out at the hidden audience. “This is the last part of the story and it started with a request from Elton.” The cameras zoomed in on his sombre expression. “I know this will be difficult for many of you but please, please remember that it started with a request from a Kerm.” ------------------ The audience fell silent as Jonton finished his summary of Obrinn’s origins as a frozen seed with a brief description of the Berelgan’s Kerm telegraph. Around the table, Chief Ambassador Aldwell’s expression was unreadable. He glanced at Chadwick before shaking his head and turning back to Jonton. “Thank you for a most illuminating – and admirably brief – summary, Mr Jonton.” Aldwell steepled his fingers and stared directly at the cameras positioned just off-stage. “My views on the cold storage of Kerm seeds have always been quite clear and I have made no efforts to hide them, as my fellow Pillars will be more than aware. On my own, I would not have authorised the course of action which led to Guardian Obrinn being planted.” Aldwell laced his fingers together. “However, I am kerbal, and as such, I would have found it extremely difficult to gainsay a direct request from Guardian Elton. I would encourage all those who hold similar views to myself to reflect on that.” “Indeed.” President Chadwick took a sip of water. “And be assured that it was only after a great deal of personal reflection and considerable debate in Council that the decision was made to entrust the final decision on the cold storage of Kerm seeds, to the Kerm themselves. Including Guardian Elton, twenty Kerm in each Regionality will be Awakened. The Kerm telegraph will be extended to link each and every one of the Awakened Kerm. We shall present all sides of the argument to them, and then we shall act on their verdict.” “We can also hope,” Aldwell stated, “but cannot presume to insist, that they will follow Jonton and Guardian Elton’s example by deliberately restricting their territories for the sake of all the Kerm yet unplanted. And thus, as set out in the Joint Declaration, do we hope to bring an end to the Kerm crisis.” “As do we all, Chief Ambassador. As do we all.” Tom took a deep breath. “Before we open the floor to our audience, I do have one question of my own. What is going to happen to Project Starseed?” “Thus far, the Confederacy has played a very minor part in the space program.” Aldwell gestured at Chadwick. “I believe that President Chadwick will be better placed to answer that.” Chadwick nodded his thanks. “Very briefly, Tom, Starseed continues - because it may yet be our one and only option to survive the Kerm Crisis.” He ticked off his points on his fingers. “Even if the Awakened Kerm permit cold storage of seeds – which remains to be seen – that merely postpones the inevitable. Many more Kerm would need to be Awakened and to agree to restrict their territories to create sufficient planting space for the ongoing Seeding. As Chief Ambassador Aldwell noted, we hope but cannot presume that they will do so.” Chadwick took a sip of water. “Therefore, the Council stands behind the Kerbin Space Agency and the magnificent achievements of it and all its volunteers.” The corner of his lip quirked upwards. “More tangibly, an emergency, cross-Regionality, Starseed funding bill is being drafted, as we speak.” “And about time too!” came a call from the audience, to growing applause. Tom raised his hands for calm. “Mr President?” He saw the slight shake of Chadwick’s head. “In that case, I open the floor to our audience. And for our first question… yes, you ma’am, in the green poncho.” “The Joint Declaration seems like an awfully large change of policy for the Twelve Pillars. May I ask what prompted this plan?” “A very good question,” Chadwick replied. “In truth, it was not a new idea. It had been mooted in Council and proposed a number of times by various sources. Including,” he added, “part of from Geneney Kerman – yes, the KSA flight director – given as part of a testimony on a matter concerning the space program. Mr Geneney advised us that he had communed with Guardian Elton and found him to be a firm supporter of Starseed. On that basis, he wondered if we should find out whether any other Kerm felt the same way. It later transpired from a conversation with Director Lodan that Mr Geneney had previously been heard to comment, rather pointedly, that the Kerm Conflict ‘mostly boiled down to people fighting over what they think the Kerm want and that maybe one of us needs to ask one them what they actually want.’ “ Aldwell nodded. “Whilst a perfectly reasonable suggestion it did have the very obvious flaw that we could only Commune with one Kerm at a time and, crucially, that there no was no apparent way for widely separated Kerm to confer amongst themselves and arrive at a joint decision without kerbal input. As you’ll appreciate, we anticipated a certain amount of difficulty in finding kerbal go-betweens whom everyone would trust. The Kerm telegraph avoids that difficulty.” “Yes, indeed,” murmured Tom. He scanned the audience. “Next question please – from you, sir, I think.” “The Kerm telegraph seems terribly convenient. Other than Mr Jonton’s word, what proof do we have that it’s real?” Tom chuckled for a second. “Please excuse the levity because that is also a very good question. May I ask, sir, do you watch Engines and Engineers?” “I can’t say that I’ve seen every episode but yes, I do. Or did.” Tom nodded. “The Council didn’t expect people to take the Telegraph seriously. I didn’t, when I was first told about it – couldn’t get the image of a big old Kerm tree reaching down with one of its branches and tapping away at a telegraph key.” He waited for the laughter to die away. “They thought everyone might have an easier time believing it from Engines and Engineers which, I have to say, was extremely flattering. So we ran an ‘Is it Fake?’ investigation on the whole thing.” Tom’s eyes lost their focus for a second. “The scientists at the Berelgan showed us everything. We got to Commune with Guardian Obrinn, we got to… experience is the only word I can think of… him using the Telegraph, and we tested that piece of equipment every which way we could think of. We’ll be broadcasting the investigation tomorrow night and I would urge everyone to watch it and make up their own minds.” Tom’s voice shook. “But my mind is quite made up. The Kerm telegraph is real – and it is wonderful. Next question please. Two rows back, striped scarf. Yes ma’am?” “Who’s going to Awaken all those Kerm?” The question dropped into a sudden silence. Jonton raised his hand. “If I may?” Everyone around the table nodded their assent. “As with so much else about the Kerm crisis, we’ll be seeking volunteers. They will get to Commune with Elton and his daughter.” A ripple of surprise ran through the audience. “Yes, he thinks of Jonelle as his daughter. The volunteers will get a chance to understand the joy of Communion with two Awakened Kerm. They will also get a chance to understand the risks involved.” Jonton’s voice went flat. “They will get to see Gerselle and, if I am strong enough to face it, to experience her… accident. Nothing will be hidden.” “Thank you, Jonton.” Tom said respectfully. “Another question please.” “What are you going to tell the Awakened Kerm? For all of Chief Ambassador’s fine words, how can we tell that the politicians won’t just ask the question that gets them the answer they want?” Aldwell adjusted his microphone. “An excellent question and one which I personally raised in Council although not in quite such blunt terms. However, if I may borrow Mr Jonton’s words, nothing will be hidden. Everyone, be they kermol, neo-Kerman, or a Child of Kerbin, will have their views put before the Kerm. On that you have my word.” Aldwell looked straight at the camera. “In this forum, as a Pillar of the Council, I do place my words on the public record.” He turned back to the audience. “I trust you will find that sufficient, sir.” His questioner nodded dumbly. “Very much. Thank you, Chief Ambassador.” “And on a practical note,” Chadwick added. “All aspects of our case before the Kerm will be made available to the public for scrutiny and suggested revisions, with the final version being approved by pan-Regionality referendum.” He paused. “Tom, before we go back to the audience, I have a question of my own.” Chadwick looked at Jonton. “You took it upon yourself to speak for Guardian Elton when you told us that planting Guardian Obrinn was done at his behest. May I presume that you consulted Guardian Elton before attributing these actions to him?” Jonton nodded. “You may, Chief Ambassador. Before he Awoke, Elton was my Kerm and I was his Keeper. Since he Awoke, I instead count him as a friend and a mentor. In either case I would not have associated his name with such a sensitive topic without his permission.” “And I would expect nothing less. Thank you, Mr Jonton.” << Chapter 104 Chapter 106>>

My immediate thought would be Mystery Goo but I'd need to re-read the relevant chapter to scavenge for better clues.

You could but that would be nitpicking.

Thanks @tater!

Heya, Was looking up a couple of things about the Saturn V and found this site. Thought some folks here might find it interesting anyway but mostly I'm posting it for that last picture of the first Saturn V in flight. Bear in mind that the Saturn was about 363ft or roughly 120m high. That's a lot of fire... Something was definitely going to space that day...

Very, very interesting... And I see what you did there with Tower of Power records.

No - you 'just' need more efficient muscles that generate more useful work from the same amount of energy used or to find some other way of dissipating waste heat other than by having a bigger heat sink (more body mass) Or accept the fact that you can have super-strength but only in short bursts before you overheat. Some real-world figures pulled from Wikipedia (feel free to provide counterexamples - this is a debate after all). Chimpanzee. Adult males weigh between 40-60kg. Stated to be around 50% stronger than humans due to different muscle composition. Humans. Average weight for a 20 year old US male is about 89kg. Gorilla. Adult males weigh around 136-195 kg presumably depending on species. It seems that gorillas are between 4 and 9 times as strong as humans. So chimps manage to be both significantly lighter (60%) and significantly stronger (50%) than humans. Male gorillas can be over double the weight of a human male but can also be at least 4 and up to 9 times stronger. Assuming that those figures are even somewhat reliable, extra strength without extra weight is more than plausible - it's demonstrated. Also strength doesn't seem to scale linearly with body mass. I don't know what you had in mind by 'super strength' but (assuming it works like this), I would definitely settle for 'gorilla strength' i.e. quadrupling my body strength with the same body mass! TL: DR. Strength is complicated, it's affected by many factors, and conclusions drawn from an analysis that's heavily based on only one of those factors might not be reliable. With all that said, if you're looking for 'leaps tall buildings in a single bound' super strength then yeah, I'd say you're out of luck. Biology is amazing but it can only do so much.

Muscle structure. Muscle cells have a highly organised system of parallel protein fibres. There are two kinds, actin and myosin and they’re interleaved. Actin is essentially a straight fibre, myosin is studded with protrusions. Think of three golf clubs in a bundle, shafts aligned, heads pointing outwards, 120 degrees apart. Now take a whole lot of bundles and arrange them end to end. That’s a (very) rough picture of a myosin fibre. When a muscle cell contracts, the actin and myosin filaments slide together, thus shortening and thickening the cell. Each myosin head grabs onto the nearest actin filament, moves it a short distance, and let’s go. The cooperative effect of many many myosin heads working together, many times a second, causes that sliding movement mentioned above. Crucially, that sliding movement is one way only - the actin/myosin system works like a molecular ratchet. Put another way, a muscle cell can contract but cannot relax unaided. So muscles need to work in pairs. That’s the science part but knowing how muscle works, we can speculate on ways that it could be made to work better, thus leading to stronger muscle fibres that can generate more force per unit cross sectional area. Perhaps engineering the myosin filaments to have a greater number of heads per unit length would be a way. Maybe the shape of those heads could be changed to give them more of a lever effect, thereby producing more muscle contraction per cycle. Maybe we could have a completely different system for generating movement. Think of a rubber band for example - the more you twist it, the shorter it gets. You could imagine a muscle cell based on twisting fibres rather than sliding fibres. That’s the fiction part but I think it’s at least fiction with plausible sounding technobabble.

Short answer - yes, it is entirely possible for a humanoid to be substantially stronger than a normal human. I would say that the great apes count as humanoid and they're (on average) much stronger than humans. Animals - including humans - with defective myostatin expression have increased muscle mass and are consequentially stronger. I fail to see the connection between strength and gestation time - gorillas, for example, have a gestation period of about 8.5 months. In general, to use your rocket analogy, muscle output is limited by propellant flow rate and ISP rather than combustion temperature. Muscles have a limited amount of stored fuel in the form of glycogen. Once that's used up, they're dependent on glucose transported by the blood. Different muscle fibres are also set up to metabolise their 'fuel' in different ways. Broadly speaking, fast twitch (high output, short duration of output) fibres rely more on anaerobic (without oxygen) respiration for their energy which is quick but inefficient. It results in lactic acid buildup in the muscles which (if I remember rightly) is what is happening when you get a stitch. Slow twitch fibres (lower output but much longer duration of output) rely more on aerobic (oxygen using) respiration, which is way more efficient but also slower. Oxygen supply can be improved by improving oxygen transport. This is why athletes will take EPO (erythropoietin) - it stimulates red blood cell production. More red blood cells, more haemoglobin in the blood, better oxygen transport. It's also why certain athletes will train at altitude - their bodies respond to the lack of external oxygen by producing more EPO naturally, in order to increase oxygen transport through the blood. TL:DR. Strength is a function of muscle mass. Muscle mass can be increased through training or by pharmaceutical intervention (anabolic steroids, myostatin blockers) and, with proper training, the human body can make proper use of that increased muscle mass. The great apes demonstrate that 'superhuman' (if 5-6 times stronger counts as superhuman) strength is possible within normal metabolic and physiological parameters. Beyond that, we're moving into sci-fi territory - more on that later.

@bigyihsuan - the cities thread I was talking about is here. In addition to the locations I mention, the Capital and the Berelgan are somewhere between points 47 and 23 - the version of the Kerbin map I'm using has more of a land bridge there.

Ahh - a Tale of the Groundbound is always a treat.

That information as written mostly sounds like a load of nonsense to me. Would need a link to the original source to tell me otherwise. I would expect water to ionise when hit by well... ionising radiation. Since it will split into hydrogen ions, hydroxyl ions and/or oxygen ions then, in a sense, it does get more acidic since acidity is a measure of hydrogen ion concentration. However, I wouldn’t expect that to be a big effect. And I definitely wouldn’t expect it to degrade the performance of that water as a radiation shield. Radiation shielding is a nuclear effect with different masses of nuclei interacting with different radiations in different ways. Ionised water still contains the same number of nuclei as neutral water molecules, so I don’t see where any reduction in radiation shielding is going to come from. Hydrogen rich plastics will probably break down over time when exposed to ionising radiation. Keep them in suitable packaging (to contain your eventual plastic powder) and they’ll retain most of their shielding efficacy. If they release hydrogen as they degrade (unsure how likely this is) then I would expect them to lose some of their effectiveness over time.

Heya @bigyihsuan, I don’t have another map that I refer to but I remember another thread where someone was asking for city names for their map, so I posted some First Flight names with their approximate locations. I’ll see if I can find that thread for you. Regarding scale - yeah I’m picturing the whole Kerbol system scaled up to the size of our solar system. So a journey to Duna will take about the same time as a journey to Mars. Haven’t really given much thought to hard numbers though. As for part specs - that’s a tricky one. I haven’t played with RSS or any scale-up mods, so I don’t have a feel for how the stock parts would need to be scaled up to work with RSS. Also, some of the in-story parts (the RT5 in particular), were written into First Flight long before they appeared in the game (if indeed they have - I’m not sure if an LV-T20 ever made it in) so their specs probably don’t match up at all. I’ve also taken some liberties with the part specs - my LV-T30 is gimballed for example, unlike the Reliant. Mostly (as you’ve correctly pointed out on the TV Tropes page) I was looking to provide some sense of continuity to the game parts rather than trying to exactly match in-story part specs to in-game part specs. One thing that I’ve totally ignored though is part diameters, mostly because I don’t see them as being terribly important to the story. Or the game for that matter - to my mind KSP has never been particularly consistent or realistic about part sizes, and pinning exact numbers on them just raises more questions than it answers. But I digress. If you want a rough point of reference to the game however, an in-game analogue of the Eve booster would have a central 2.5m core stage with three LV-T30s attached, with three 1.25m strap-on boosters each with an underpowered LV-T30 (in-story, the LV-T20) attached. The upper stage consists of a shorter 2.5m tank with a fourth, vacuum optimised LV-T20. The early Rockomax boosters were heavily based on SRBs, their first decent liquid fuelled booster (for launching Endurance) would be based on 2.5m tankage with a single Skipper on the lower stage and a single Poodle on the second stage. No strap-on boosters that I recall. I think both boosters would be grossly oversized for stock LKO flights and I have no idea how well they would scale for RSS LEO flights I’m afraid!

Ahh - a misunderstanding there. I did wonder about the 'monster' comment. No - going to hold back on contributing to the First Flight TV Tropes page until the story is done!

Okay - that's not what you said though. And yes - take that idea to its logical conclusion and you end up with the tether concept - two spacecraft tethered by a cable rotating about their common centre of gravity mass. Edited.

Hmmm, is that right though? The mid section is still under tension after all and I can't immediately see why it doesn't need to be as strong as the end sections. And to me, the ISS is more of a cross shape - truss in one direction, chain of cylinders in the other. Not that it's important for this discussion - just means that we've got experience with both truss designs and string-of-cylinder designs. Two lots of construction for the price of one - bonus!

Afraid so. In the meantime, the next chapter is up and I'm about 1800 words into the one after that. Knuckling down Looking back, Jeb would remember the Barkton Space Centre refurbishment, or KIS 2 as some of the newer volunteers called it amongst themselves, as one of the more productive times of his life. There was indeed plenty of work to go around but the combined decades of experience from the older hands, an established network of contractors, and not having to build everything from scratch from creatively salvaged equipment, went a long way. After quiet words from Geneney and Bob, the rocket-spotters began to get over their initial awe and tendency to become tongue-tied if spoken to by one of the kerbonauts, and set to work; their unfailing good cheer and willingness to do anything and everything to help, lifting spirits around the site. After a chance conversation with Malmy, where he admitted to ‘doing a bit of diving but only as a hobby really,’ Eldrin was transferred to the kerbonaut training team, much to the unspoken envy of his friends. After helping to upgrade the training Pool, he spent long hours as a safety diver, helping the Eve 4 crew practice for their upcoming spacewalks. Crew selection for Eve 4 caused a brief undercurrent of resentment amongst a number of the older volunteers who remembered the original ‘we all build them – we all fly them’ KIS management philosophy. As the senior flight director, Geneney was careful to make time for everyone to air their views, whilst remaining adamant that he needed an experienced crew for the first real Tenacity assembly flight. Barrie, he noted out, had flown with both Wilford and Kerke, all of the crew apart from Bob had flown at least twice, whilst Bob himself was the senior liaison engineer with Rockomax and one of the last Munar kerbonauts aboard Pioneer 6. The fact that Bob was also a founding member of the KIS and one of the Original Three kerbonauts who’d flown on Kerbal 1, never needed to be mentioned. Besides, as Geneney pointed out, there would be plenty of Tenacity flights to go around, especially once both Bridge modules were on-orbit and the growing station could accommodate a crew of eight. Sensitive to the developing mood, Jeb and Geneney quietly moved some of the most capable dissenters into the flight control or mission planning teams in the hope that training for their more demanding roles would give them less free time to complain as well as putting them closer to the flight line. Barrie and Kerke, both well used to working within the more stratified Rockomax management structure, proved to be adept at smoothing ruffled egos and pulling the support teams together around the crew. Somewhat to Bill’s surprise, progress on the four-seat, Mark 2.5 capsule turned out to be comparatively smooth although, as anticipated, fitting in a fifth acceleration couch did prove to be unfeasible without completely reworking the entry, descent, and landing profile for the new capsule. The mission planning and flight test teams unanimously voted to put such a radical overhaul on hold although the more optimistic engineers did point out that a five-seater capsule would be useful for future Starseed flights. In complete contrast to the capsule work, refurbishing the launchpad turned out to be a seemingly never-ending list of repairs and replacements. One week it would be residual hypergolics corroding a hastily decommissioned fuel line. The next week it would be a seized rotator in the crew access gantry. The week after that it would be a cracked propellant storage tank followed by stuck valves in the core stage propellant feed. After one particularly frustrating day, Geneney declared that evening to be a ‘good old-fashioned KIS beach party’ and despite a distinct shortage of food and drink, a rousing game of shepherdball followed by a bonfire and a rendition of the Ballad of Kerbal 1 plus assorted other pop favourites from Bob, did much to lift the Pad Team’s black mood. And then the preparations were finished. Everyone at the Barkton Space Centre, from the flight control team to the janitors, lined the road from the Vehicle Assembly Building to the launchpad to watch Eve 4’s rollout. To nobody’s surprise, the rocket-spotters were right at the front, waving flags and sporting faded red hats emblazoned with the original tilted rocket logo from Jebediah Kerman’s Junkyard and Spacecraft Parts Company. Neither was anyone surprised when a faulty Go/No Go signal caused the pad autosequencer to abort the first launch attempt. After replacing a microswitch in Decoupler A and three more days of exhaustive testing, Eve 4 was rolled back out to the launchpad. This time the countdown proceeded flawlessly and, right at the appointed moment, the booster thundered off the pad, sending Bob, Barrie, Wilfred and Kerke on their way to a rendezvous with Tenacity. ---------------- “It looks like you’re pointing straight out but it’s really hard to tell from here,” Bob reported. He pulled himself over to the edge of the window and craned his head, trying to get a better view of the PAL assembly arm. “Can just see past the first elbow if I squint. Yep that looks straight.” Further around Tenacity’s bridge from the rear-view windows, Barrie sat in front of a row of monitors, a pair of hand controllers and a bank of toggle switches within easy reach. “Not a problem, Bob – the system was never designed to be driven by eye.” She flipped a switch. “Okay, Flight – bringing up third section. She eased back one of the controllers watching as the next part of the assembly arm unfolded. “And the next one.” A red light lit up above the main monitor, accompanied by a low buzzing noise. Barrie immediately let go of her controls and glanced at the indicator panel. “Huh – current draw warning on number three elbow joint.” There was a pause from Mission Control. “We think you’re getting some stiction on the bearing, Barrie. Try working it a little – no more than five-degree excursions either way.” “Will do. Switching to diagnostics.” Barrie touched a control and the view on one monitor flicked out, replaced by a telemetry display. “Rotation to FINE.” The red light flickered off then lit up again. Barrie frowned and nudged her controller in the opposite direction. For a minute she thought the problem was fixed, then the buzzer sounded again and the warning light flickered erratically. “No joy, Flight.” “Understood. Can you give us a close up please?” “Coming right up.” Barrie pulled out a smaller control panel from under her console, touched a button and ran her thumb over a trackwheel. The view on another of her monitors zoomed in on the malfunctioning joint and she studied it for a long moment. “Nothing obviously wrong with it from this angle. I’m going to try rotating the wrist joint.” “Go ahead.” The rest of the Tenacity crew floated over to Barrie’s console, watching over her shoulder as her largest monitor showed a view of a section of the manipulator arm turning slowly through space. Barrie kept one eye on her indicator panel, which remained resolutely free of warning lights. “Not getting any problems with the wrist joint, Flight, and I’m still not seeing anything wrong with the elbow joint from the outside.” “We concur, Barrie. I’ll get the team on it down here and let you know once they’ve got anything to report.” ----------------- Bob checked the hose locks on Kerke and Wilfred’s EVA suits one last time, studied the readouts on their chest units and gave his crewmates a thumbs up. He wormed his way past the fourth acceleration couch now installed in the lower equipment bay and pulled himself up the docking tunnel, through the hatch and into Tenacity’s far roomier airlock. Double-checking that the airlock door was sealed and locked, he manoeuvred through the forward gangway before climbing along the access way to the Bridge. “All set.” Bob floated over to the forward windows, listening to Wilfred and Kerke running through the capsule egress checklist as he went. He watched Eve 4’s crew hatch open and a mirrored helmet emerge, followed by the shoulders and upper torso of Kerke’s spacesuit. After fumbling with the hatch rim for a moment, Kerke pulled himself up and out into open space, the stiff, fabric-wrapped cord of his safety tether flapping behind him. He swung his legs back until they were parallel with the service module hull, tucked his boots into the nearest foot restraints and stood up and waved. Bob grinned and waved back, before drifting over to Barrie’s console. They watched Wilfred emerge from the capsule and secure his tether, before he and Kerke began making their methodical way over the Bridge module and across the hub, reporting each tether change and significant manoeuvre to Mission Control as they went. Aboard Tenacity, Barrie switched from camera to camera to keep the spacewalkers in view. “Flight, EVA-1. We’re at the work site and the joint is in easy reach. Nice positioning there by Barrie.” Kerke paused. “The lubrication port looks clean, no visual contamination or leakages.” Bob watched him operate his helmet visors. “Nothing unusual through the crossed polarisers either. I think we’re good.” “Copy EVA-1. You’re clear to proceed with the interface test.” Bob watched Kerke set himself by the now re-folded assembly arm, the cylindrical bulk of a lubricant dispenser tethered to his waist. At the bottom of his screen, the edge of Wilford’s shadow could just be seen. Kerke unhooked the grease gun and lifted it into position, lining its nozzle up with the receiver port on the arm joint, the dark grey coating applied to its oversized bayonet fitting, a stark contrast to its gleaming barrel. He moved the nozzle tip up to the port, rotated it slightly and then slid it home. “Okay, Flight. We’ve got a good interface. I’m locking the dispenser now.” There was a long pause. “Dispenser locked. Felt pretty smooth.” “Good to hear, EVA-1. Okay, we want you to take a one-quarter turn and check for leakage.” “Understood.” Kerke shifted his grip on the dispenser and twisted its base, feeling it click into place even through his heavy suit gloves. “Good tactile feedback. No obvious back pressure.” He leaned forward to inspect the bayonet seal. “No leakage.” “Copy. Take it another quarter-turn and we’ll work the joint.” “Understood.” Kerke twisted the dispenser base through another click before disconnecting it from the assembly arm and joining Wilford atop the hub. They watched the arm pivot away from them before slowly rotating about the newly lubricated elbow joint. “Flight, Tenacity. Still getting a current draw warning.” “Okay, Tenacity. EVA-2, you’re up. Another half-turn of grease and we’ll try this again. Barrie, please go ahead and move the arm back into range.” “Will do.” Another turn and a half later, Kerke and Wilford stood atop the Hub, both with arms floating free and the fingers of their gloves splayed open, listening to the running dialogue between Barrie and the flight control team. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Flight. I just don’t think that joint was properly packed.” “We concur, Barrie. We’ll pass the word along to the PAL team to requalify their filler. In the meantime, we’ll take a look at that telemetry - best guess is that we’ll need to take a second pass at this before clearing the assembly arm for construction. Right now, though, it’s time to call it a day. EVA-1 and EVA-2, please ingress at the capsule.” --------------- The grainy, slightly earthy smell of reconstituted natas filled Tenacity’s hub module. Wilford disconnected his ration pouch from the hot water spigot and kneaded it before joining it to a second pouch and squeezing its contents onto his natas. He discarded the second pouch, snipped the top off the first and enthusiastically dug into his breakfast, amidst the sudden sharp aroma of pureed pickle. Kerke looked at him askance. “Why so complicated? Couldn’t you just package… whatever that stuff is, in the same pouch as your oatmeal?” Wilford swallowed his mouthful. “This way you get properly cold pickle on hot natas. Package them up in the same pouch and you’d end up with hot pickle too.” Wilford looked around the Hub in mock despair. “I can’t believe we’re flying with a kerbal who’s seriously suggesting hot pickle for breakfast.” He paused. “Besides, the vinegar would soak into the dry natas and that would taste vile.” Kerke just shook his head before hunting in the breakfast locker and emerging with a pouch of scrambled egg with creva and a foil package. Wilford looked up with interest. “What’ve you got there?” “Crumb free flatbread, supposedly.” Kerke tore open the foil and pulled out a flaccid white pancake. He bit off one corner and chewed it thoughtfully. “Not bad. Bit rubbery but tastes alright.” He left the flatbread floating by a window and busied himself with his eggs and creva. “Pity you can’t make a proper breakfast roll in zero-G.” “Have a word with Derny when we get home,” Bob said cheerfully. “He likes a challenge. Bet your roll would be improved by some good old fashioned Kolan breakfast pickle too.” Kerke gave him a look. Barrie opened her mouth to speak, when the radio crackled to life. “Morning all. Welcome to another fine day in space!” Bob raised his eyebrows. “Morning, Jeb. Gene having a lie-in, is he?” “He’s earned it. He, Lodan and Camrie were up till all hours last night organising the last of the move, finishing up the paperwork and generally making sure you’ll be coming home to a fully recommissioned Space Centre.” “Fantastic!” Wilford swallowed a mouthful of natas. “So, what’s on the task list for today, Flight?” “Got some good news there as well. The hard-working folks at Foxham will be rolling your shipment of parts out to the pad today, to be sent up through the next window. So, we’re bumping the PAL systems checkout up the schedule and making a start on that once we’re finished with the filters.” “Excellent.” Kerke drifted across the Hub, a squeeze bulb of coffee in one hand. “Any changes to the PAL flight plan?” “No. Gene talked it over with Nelton and they both agreed that it would be better to get more experience with the autonomous systems now, before we add too many more parts to your home away from home. Crew rotations for supervising the docking manoeuvres haven’t changed either.” "And the power-down checklist?" "No changes. We'll do a last dry run as planned, once the PAL systems are confirmed Go for free flight." "Copy that, Flight." "Better grab yourself a coffee too, Flight," Bob added. "It's going to be another long day." ----------------- "All non-essential systems powered down. Eve CSM re-entry batteries charged. Requesting telemetry check." "Copy that, Bob. You're looking good from here." Bob flipped a switch, Kerke watching over his shoulder. "Isolating PAL from power grid." He scanned his instruments, before flipping another switch. "Connecting service module arrays. Confirming predicted draw through bus A." A row of lights flickered from amber to green. "Storage batteries charging. Grid configuration set." "Copy. PAL status?" "Tank pressures are green, propellant line heaters drawing power," Wilford reported from the next station. "Gimbal drives are Go. Starting TVC checks." He studied a set of tell-tales. "Clear excursions in pitch...and clear excursions in yaw. Bringing up the RCS." "Thank you, Wilford." Green lights lit up across a schematic of the PAL propulsion and guidance systems. Wilford nodded in satisfaction. "Quads one through four online. Manipulator stowed; docking port sealed and locked. Bob?" "That's confirmed. Clear for PAL undocking on your mark, Flight." "Whenever you're ready." Bob reached up and flipped the protective cage back from a prominently labelled red button. "Undocking now." The button slid home with a faint click. Wilford cocked his head to one side, half-expecting to hear the familiar rattle of docking latches disengaging. The shifting lights on his instrument panel pulled his attention back to his controls. "Confirming PAL undock complete. She's all yours, Flight." "We copy, Tenacity. We have the vehicle. Falling back to manoeuvring distance." Wilford unclipped his harness and eased himself out from behind his instrument panel before drifting over to join Bob and Kerke behind Barrie's station. On her largest monitor the PAL slid slowly astern, its three photovoltaic arrays glinting in the sunlight, the interior of its docking port cloaked by shadow. The four kerbonauts watched it go, listening to the running commentary of status reports from Mission Control. "Excuse me." Wilford eased his way past Kerke and pushed off for his station. On Barrie's screen, four pulses of flame, seemingly aimed directly at the zoomed-in camera, hastened the PAL's stately departure. As Barrie adjusted her field of view, two more bursts of flame set it into a slow spin, one of the photovoltaic arrays suddenly brightening as it caught the sunlight. "Okay, Tenacity. All systems check out so we'll just get our space tug clear of your orbit before heading over to pick up your parts. Afraid they're travelling economy class, so they'll take a couple of days to get to you." "Not a problem, Flight," Kerke replied. "No offence to the trajectory team but we're as happy for them not to be aiming the payload straight into grapple range." "We hear that, Tenacity." Geneney paused. "Looks like we're ahead of the clock here, so let's take ten before handing you over to Foxham for the next EVA. "Understood, Flight." --------------------- Several days later, the Power, Assembly, and Logistics spacecraft crept towards Tenacity on its final approach, an ungainly looking cargo pallet of parts and equipment docked to its nose. The far end of the pallet tapered into a second docking adaptor, designed to match the CORDS-3 ports used to connect the space station modules. Onboard Tenacity, the crew huddled around Barrie’s station, watching the approach through the station’s camera system. On the ground, engineers, at both the KSA’s main Mission Control centres, kept a watchful eye on the spacecraft systems whilst the flight control teams monitored its trajectory and distance from the station. Geneney sat behind his console, eyes flicking from the main screen to his communications panel and back, listening with half an ear to the murmured conversations around the consoles. “Flight, FD.” “Go ahead, FD.” “Vehicle is at the approach point, Flight.” “Thank you, FD. Guidance?” “Alignment is green with a good return from all sensors. RCS to FINE; auto-reverse loaded.” Geneney switched his headset back to an outside line. “Foxham, Barkton. How are we doing, Nelton?” “Not seeing any problems here, Gene. Ready when you are.” “Thanks.” Geneney cut in the all-consoles loop. “OK, team – we’re looking good from Foxham. Take us in, Guidance.” “Copy, Flight.” On screen, Tenacity’s hub module began to drift closer, the triangular petals securing it to the bridge module, clearly visible. Dead ahead, one of the eight CORDS-3 docking ports arrayed around the hub gleamed in the sunlight, slowly swelling to fill the view on the main screen as the PAL drew closer. “Inside the capture zone, Flight. Standing by for contact.” A set of red lights on the payload controller’s console flickered to amber. “Contact. Coarse alignment confirmed.” The amber lights turned green. “Ready to latch. RCS OFF, auto-reverse disengaged.” Geneney could sense Nelton’s tension coming down the phone line. “All latches at pre-tension, Flight. Fine alignment confirmed.” There was a long pause. “And we have a hard dock.” A muted ripple of applause ran around the room. Geneney leaned forward. “Good work. Systems – PAL status please.” “All Go, Flight.” “Very good. Go ahead, Guidance.” Geneney crossed his fingers under his console, listening to the guidance and systems teams going through their checklists. Then, spots of flame flickered around the edges of the main screen. A hairline crack appeared between the PAL and the cargo pallet, slowly widening as the space tug pulled away. More puffs of flame and the interior of the pallet docking adaptor edged into sight, the view of Tenacity behind it beginning to recede. Unseen, Geneney clenched his fist under his console as a second, much louder, buzz of applause and conversation filled the room. “Excellent work, everyone. Let’s take it back to manoeuvring distance and get set up for the repositioning.” --------------- Wilford sighed with contentment as the globule of warm coffee splashed against the roof of his mouth. “It sure is good to have our main power module back. Cold meals were good for the Moho nostalgia but I’m definitely looking forward to some proper hot food tonight.” Barrie shrugged, catching the edge of her seat with one hand before the movement could put her into a tumble. “I don’t know. Those flatbreads are growing on me.” She slipped behind her console and strapped herself in, before adjusting her headcap and keying her microphone. “Flight, Tenacity. Ready to start unloading.” She checked her monitor, watching the two spacesuited figures working at the cargo pallet. “Everything set, Kerke?” “All set. We’ll head back to the Bridge and give you space to work.” “Appreciated.” Barrie watched her crewmates retreat off-screen, switching to a second camera to check their progress. “EVA-1, EVA-2, tethered and secure, Flight.” “Copy, EVA-1.” Barrie turned all her attention to her controls. Switching back to her aft camera, she touched a series of buttons. “Manipulator arm unlocked and powered up. Unfolding all sections.” Outside, a bundle of thick, fabric-wrapped tubes, linked by solid, disc-like hubs emerged from the top of the PAL and unfolded into a straight line. Then, one section at a time, the manipulator arm twisted about itself, lining up its grapple tip with the cargo pallet docked to Tenacity’s hub module. “Switching camera.” Barrie’s eyes were locked on her monitor screen, now showing a view straight down the manipulator arm towards the waiting girder section. She wiped her hands on her jumpsuit, before touching a button on her keyboard and taking hold of the hand controllers. “Translation mode armed.” She eased one of the controllers forward, watching the girder swim towards her. “Rate to FINE. Standing by to grapple.” The arm tip crept forward and slipped into a matching socket on the girder, before clamping shut. “Arm locked on. Extracting spoke segment.” Barrie took a deep breath and pulled back on her controller. The indicator lights above her screen flickered amber as the girder tugged free of its restraining clamps and then winked out. Barrie blew out her cheeks with relief. “Segment extracted, Flight. Translation rate to SLOW” “We see it, Barrie. Outstanding!” Over the next two hours, with Kerke and Bob offering constant encouragement from their vantage point atop the bridge module, Barrie painstakingly grappled the spoke segment into position, acutely aware of the added mass she was steering. She let go of her controls for a moment, rolling her shoulders to relieve their stiffness and smiled as Wilford handed her an icy cold squeeze bulb of water, before heading over to his own station. “Thanks, Wilford.” She took a long drink, before attaching the bulb to the side of her console and flexing her fingers. “OK, Flight. Moving to soft capture.” “You’ve got two roomfuls of people keeping their fingers crossed for you.” “Tell them thanks from all of us, Flight. Here we go.” A single amber light lit up on Wilford’s instrument panel. A second one flickered and went out. “Hold it, Barrie. Almost there – try backing up and taking it one notch clockwise.” Clenching her jaw, Barrie worked her controls, making the minute adjustment before winding the manipulator arm towards Tenacity’s hull. “Four lights! Flight, we have a soft capture!” Barrie flipped a switch on her hand controller. “Unlocking arm.” “Engaging retractors.” The four amber lights turned green and blinked off. Wilford cleared his throat. “Flight, Tenacity. Confirming hard capture on spoke segment one.” The noisy applause over the radio link told the two kerbonauts all they needed to know, Kerke and Bob adding their congratulations from outside. Barrie quietly pulled up the aft camera view on her screen, leaning back in her seat to take in the blues and greens of Kerbin shining through the new girder section attached to Tenacity’s hub. One down, another fifteen to go. We can do this. By all the Kerm, we can do this. << Chapter 103 Chapter 105>>

Just to throw in some real world numbers here. The London Eye is a 120m diameter Ferris wheel. It consists of a wheel (of course), with 32 capsules attached to its outer rim. Each capsule weighs 10 tonnes, total weight of capsules plus wheel is 2100 tonnes. Therefore the wheel has a mass of 1780 tonnes. It is quite clearly capable of supporting it's own mass at 1g and it can also support the additional mass of those capsules again, under 1g. Mass of the International Space Station is approximately 420 tonnes. So the London Eye wheel has approximately the same mass as four International Space Stations. Assuming (and this is a big assumption but it'll do as an example of present day technology) that SpaceX get their Starship to work and that it's able to lift its projected 100 tonnes to LEO, it would take 18 Starship flights to lift the necessary payload to construct a 120m diameter wheel in space that would be capable of spinning quickly enough to generate 1g at the circumference. plus additional flights to lift the habitation modules and everything else that goes into a working space station, of course. Other rockets (currently at various stages of development) would also be options. I'm picking SpaceX because it's easier to see how much progress they're making and they're explicitly aiming at a fully reusable heavy-lift vehicle, which should make a large scale project like this more economically viable. Yes, orbital construction will be required. I believe it would be required for a 100m tumbling tube station as well, since I'm not aware of any rocket that would be capable of launching a 100m long single piece of payload. As a point of comparison, the Saturn V was around 120m long. Mass isn't necessarily an issue here, its more the fact that you'll be launching an extremely tall, spindly rocket, or going for a novel design with some serious strap-on boosters and a minimal sustainer stage to get that payload to orbit. Besides, the International Space Station has shown that building long, multipart structures in space is entirely possible. The ISS main truss is quite the construction. TL: DR. I believe that building sizeable wheel design space stations is quite possible with current technology and current generation lift capacity. Why bother? Because a wheel design offers significantly more habitable space than a tumbling tube design, where the available floor space is limited by the diameter of the tube.